To be opened after Carrie Dollanganger-Sheffields death.
Dear Cathy, Chris, Doctor Paul and Henny.
By now you have read my other letter and you will have found this one weeks after my death. I have written this book from small notes I kept shortly after Cory's death, and after we came to live with Doctor Paul. I saw Cathy constantly writing while we lived in the room, and attic and I wanted to do the same after a while. I felt after Cory left that it was easier to write everything down, it felt better than keeping it locked up in my heart. I suppose that's why you do it too Cathy. I see you still scribbling away in journals after you've put Jory to bed. I've even sneaked a peak at your diaries, I hope you don't mind too much. Though I wish you could heed my advice and not continue with your plans of revenge for Momma or the Grandmother. Though I might be wasting paper writing that because I know after you read my story you will be even angrier, especially since by now I will have told you why I committed suicide. Though I must tell you that getting revenge will not change the past, and even if I had married Alex, I would never have been happy without Cory. I have felt a hole in my heart since he died, especially since I've always known that it was murdered though I never wanted to believe it. Hearing at the age of eight that your brother was killed by rat poison isn't easy, and for years I pretended I hadn't heard Chris and Cathy whisper about it. I think I would still end up killing myself anyway, even if I hadn't met Momma on the street.
I am writing this book from my notes kept over the years for my family to read. For you to know the real me, and to understand what I went through. For you to also realize that I wasn't as naive as you thought I was. You all thought that I didn't understand anything that went on over the years, but I always knew. And perhaps one day, the public will read this book and find out just what kind of cruelty goes on behind closed doors. No one should have to go through what we four did, or what I did. And yet children all over the world are starved and beaten, and nothing gets done about it.
This is my story.